


Stray Pieces

by Skeren



Series: World Glimpses [7]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Gen, Gun Kink, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, M/M, Office Sex, Psychological Torture, Reincarnation, Starvation, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 00:42:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 28
Words: 14,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6099236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeren/pseuds/Skeren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My previously-posted FFVII oneshots that are too small to be posted alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tidbit of the Born of Power Universe

**Author's Note:**

> The works in this set were posted between 2006 and 2010.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Sephiroth is a Vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Created February 2013.
> 
> This story is set in a universe I actually intend to write as an original work at some point, though that doesn't mean you guys might not see another guide under my Original Universe tag about it at some point instead.

It was a mess of fairly epic proportions. Seph had up and gotten kidnapped, Aeris had busted in in the dead of the night, and overall it just made for a _really_ bad day. Who was expecting that? Yes, sure, Seph had always been rather eventful to live with, but this was new. Usually, the man was so careful...

But he was finding all levels of appreciation for the girl he’d rescued a few years back. Sure, she was young, but he was almost completely sure that her ‘young’ was still years older than him, so he didn’t even try to ask. Instead, he got to focus on not freaking out and cutting up branches when she used them to yank him out of the way of attacks he was almost sure he could have dodged, and otherwise just not getting killed.

Turned or ‘Cursed’ as Seph liked to call them were complicated kills. At least, if a guy didn’t blast through them with silver edged blades like he was. Aeris was pretty damn impressive too, a flurry of death that rent apart the people who had stolen someone precious to them both.

In the end though, Seph, sword in hand and breathing heavy, was the one who came to _them_.

He was weak, and obviously exhausted, and looked like if he lost any more blood he’d set to biting people himself, but he was alive. The trail of bodies behind him, on the other hand, attested that even captured he was still a more experienced killer than them both.


	2. Child Menace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth's prisoner is sending him spare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written January of 2009.
> 
> This universe came about due to me and a roleplay partner who came up with this backstory where they knew each other from the war. Before Crisis Core came out mind. We had no idea the Zack bits would turn canon on us.

He’d been dealing with the girl cautiously for the last several days. Admittedly, he was not known for his patience so much as his emotionlessness, but he could make an exception to both if it would just quiet the girl.

She’d been singing, for hours, without pause, and she was utterly off key. In essence, he wanted to lock her in a room somewhere and hide somewhere quiet. It was not to be however. 

He honestly didn’t trust most of those in this camp with a Wutain girl. 

True, there were many who were decent, but there were others who resented being here, or would find the girl an easy target. 

Thus, he was trapped minding her himself, and really, he’d tolerated the singing more than long enough. He’d reached his limit.

Gagging the child, he had a moment of blessed silence.

At least, until she started clanging her shoes against the metal of his futon frame instead.


	3. Overthought Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth was not good with birthdays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written February of 2008.

If this somehow went wrong, he was going to blame it on Zack. Actually, perhaps it would be wise to blame it on Zack in either case, seeing as it _was_ his fault, ultimately, that he'd even decided to do this. Zack had made a very big production of the entire birthday matter, though he was loathe to admit that he, personally, was a bit intrigued by the reactions around those currently being celebrated on any given day.

It was not, after all, as though he had never seen someone have a birthday. He was aware of what they were, and why they were celebrated, though he himself had never participated in the matter in one way or another. Typically, he simply removed himself from the area and overlooked any small infringements on protocol caused by any particular events that came up, should they not leave anyone in ill health.

That was not what he was doing today. Today, he was involving himself, and he was giving himself a bit of a nervous twitch besides. It was the only reason he could think of as to why he had felt the need to check that the paper covered bundle in his hands was secure four times before he even reached the ground floor of the Shinra building. 

He had, unfortunately, prodded at the bundle even more than that since, and he simply hoped that he located Cloud quickly so that this matter would be dealt with and no longer be something to... fret over. Grimacing inwardly, he realized that he was nervous, and while he'd been aware of the blond, he had not thought that he had placed such high importance on the boy's opinion of him.

Now it seemed that he underestimated his attachment. 

Pausing to gather himself, and allowing his fingers one last pass over the carefully wrapped parcel he held, he went in search of where the cadet ought to be at this hour. He had duty today, though it was minimal and had been due to be at an end a half hour prior. That meant he should catch the boy between there and his barracks if he wasn't mistaken. 

Fortunately, it appeared he was not wrong. Feeling some tension in his shoulders ease on seeing the boy, he slipped forward, unmindful of his silent steps. "Strife."

The reply he received was more an exclamation of shock than a greeting. "Sir!"

It almost made him smile. "Strife."

This time, the reply was calmer, startlement fading into curiosity. "Sir?"

He caught himself just shy of simply repeating the boy's name again, realizing that he was going to get into a rather embarrassing, if not worrying, loop if he did not carry on with his intentions. "Strife, here."

Pressing the parcel into the boy's hands quickly, he spun on his heel to stride away. The puzzled, slightly raised voice of the boy drifted after him. "General?"

"For your birthday." The words calm, loud enough to be heard, but he didn't linger, instead needing to return to briefly neglected duties. It was a falsehood to himself as to why he was leaving so quickly, of course. He knew he was more concerned that the boy would not like the gift and would say as much. 

He would find out later if the boy had liked what he was given. 

All he missed, of course, was the awed smile he would have received had he stayed.


	4. Trust in Thee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack liked how Tseng made him be still.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written June 2009.

He went still as he felt the cool metal run up the side of his neck, breath catching slightly at the feel. “I didn’t hear you.”

The reply murmur was a hot brush of air just above the gun, and he shivered. “You weren’t supposed to.”

He turned his head enough to look over his shoulder, leaning back into the other man. “I guess not. Doesn’t mean you should be sneakin up on me though, does it?”

“Of course it does.” The gun moved as the man slid that hand around his shoulder, trailing it to his collarbone. “If you can’t hear me, then you have no business calling yourself elite.”

He swallowed thickly, bright eyes staying over his shoulder, intent on the dark haired figure standing so casually behind him. “Me catching you being sneaky means a lot more than elite Tseng.” 

“But I wasn’t trying to be sneaky Zack.” The words were accompanied by a hot kiss against his neck, causing another shiver.

“It’s seven in the mornin on my day off Tseng, yeah, you were.” He didn’t even try to put heat into his argument, too busy tracking the gun as it wandered down his chest. “...That’s a live weapon right now isn’t it?”

“Of course.” There was a tiny shuffle, the sound of fabric over fabric as the man pressed up tighter against his back, resting his chin on his shoulder to watch what he was doing. 

There was a long beat of silence then, both of them following the progression of the cool metal as it traced his muscles, then the edge of his sleep pants, never pressed hard enough to catch on his skin, but dangerous just the same. He knew better than to even consider doing anything to the Turk when he got to doing something like this. He didn’t want to think about the man accidentally pulling that trigger if he made him twitch.

So he held still, and it was the only time he ever _really_ held still this way, careful of the consequences of moving too fast. 

That was why Tseng had done it the first time, to make him hold still... and now he just did it to do it. Maybe for the same reasons, but he’d never asked. If he did, the man might not ever do it again, and he just liked it too much. It was a thrill that being a SOLDIER just would never give him.

Swords were just plain too pointy for something like this.

“You’re thinking too hard Zack.” The words were amused, and the gun drifted down, running along something else. It made him shiver all over again. “What about?”

“You.” It was a lowly spoken word, and he turned his head slightly to meet the other man’s dark eyes. “What else?”

When the gun lifted away, he couldn’t help the groan of disappointment that seemed to inspire a smile out of Tseng. “There could have been plenty of things.”

And then Tseng moved away, giving him leave to move from where he’d frozen no less than ten minutes before. He would have preferred the man had just stayed where he’d been, doing what he was doing, all told. “Tseng?”

“I’m not leaving yet.” Dark eyes looked sideways at him in amusement as he set the safety on his gun. “I won’t leave you riled up like that to try and jump me later when I get home tonight.”

Huffing, Zack crossed his arms over his bare chest, shifting in place uncomfortably. “Not that I’m not happy to hear that... but you’re leaving?”

”In an hour, yes.” The man hadn’t even so much as loosened his tie, but he was definitely more relaxed looking than he’d be if he considered himself on duty already. 

That was promising. “So you’re all mine for an hour?”

It was obvious the man caught his hopeful tone, as he just smiled, a small, sly look before he slipped forward, hands empty, to kiss him. “Yes Zack, but if you wrinkle my uniform I will be unhappy with you.”

Still shivering from the earlier experience of being petted with the man’s gun, he just leaned down and caught his lips. He’d just have to get the suit out of the way first then, wouldn’t he?


	5. Tale of Leviathan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuffie remembers the night she lost her brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> June 2010.

There was was a young princess, one who so very much loved her family. She was, admittedly, a bit spoiled. As an infant, her parents doted on her, and as she got older, her brothers couldn’t resist the cute little toddler. 

Sadly, this was a state of affairs that could not last.

Her mother died.

You see, the princess was the daughter of a man named Godo, in a land named Wutai, and they were a very stubborn people.

There was another land, one of Others, and they did not appreciate that stubbornness. They did not like the word ‘no’ and they sent assassins to the little girl’s home, taking her mother from her in an assassination. 

She remembered the night very clearly when it happened. You see, for once she’d managed to stay awake for the entirety of her favorite story.

“...and the peoples of Wutai didn’t know that they were being challenged, but they fought valiantly, bringing down the threat that had assailed their lands for long years. However, they were all very surprised when, in the ashes and ruined battlefields around their homes, there came a flush of green and a flood of water. It was Leviathan, rising from the fallen form of their greatest foe, that man leading the enemies to their door. 

“He spoke to them, great deep voice soothing their fears as they realized who they had fought and bowed before him. ‘You did well, my people,’ he said, and they rose from their bows, cautious and uncertain.

“’You have passed my test,’ he said and there were smiles. The Emperor moved forward then, standing before their god. 

“’Why did you need to test us?’ he asked, and Leviathan smiled.

“To see if you were worthy.’ The words were soft when he spoke then, and the great god leaned down, opening his great mouth and presenting an orb of glowing red for the Emperor to take. When he had, he smiled a great fanged smile and started to fade away. ‘And now you may call on me in battle,’ he said before he was gone, leaving the great stone that your father wields to our family. Some say he’ll return and test us again.” 

The princess’s mother leaned down then, kissing her on her forehead. “Sleep now my dear daughter.”

As the woman straightened, the doors banged open behind her, her oldest brother stumbling inside on unsteady feet. He was old enough that he was training to be a ninja, so that confused the small girl, because Ninja were never clumsy. It brought her up to sitting in her bed. “Big brother?”

”Mother, you need to hide Yuffie.” Blue eyes gave the Empress a pleading look as the prince sank weakly to a knee, his mother running to his side.

”Jarel!” Her hands fluttered over him, and it was years before the princess realized that her brother’s clothes hadn’t been black that morning, but were then. She later realized he’d been covered in blood.

”Sneak attack. Please mother!”

”I understand. Where’s Tseng? Your father?”

”Ran, don’t know.” His voice got quieter, and the woman pulled a feather as he fell silent and pressed it to his chest. It rested there mockingly. 

“Jarel...” She closed her eyes, then drew herself in as befit a true ruler, gently setting her son down and turning to move to her daughter, rubbing her hands on her pale green kimono as she approached. “Come on Yuffie, we need to get you to safety.”

”But mama, big brother...”

”We can’t help big brother anymore.” It was softly said as the woman swept her daughter into her arms, shouts coming from further down the hall, the alert being risen far far too deep into their supposedly safe home. 

”But mama!”

”Hush child! Now is not the time. Now is the time to be a ninja!”

”Mama...” The princess fell silent then, and the woman tucked the girl away before turning to deal with the pursuers


	6. Second Incarnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Sephiroth is reincarnated imperfectly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 2008.

It was the dreams again. Dreams. Psh. Nightmares. Labs and scientists and blood and death. Sterility and pain. Those could not be considered dreams. Not even with the occasional happy bit, like the smiling guy. Those were way too far between for him to ever consider the dreams as anything but nightmares. 

He figured it was because of the name his mother had given him, one she says that his dad didn't like, he was from Cosmo Canyon, but she'd given it to him anyway. She says she doesn't want people to forget the man was a hero once, before he tried to kill the whole world. Right. That makes it all better, subject your kid to the name of a wannabe world killer. Inspire the kid to have nightmares for his entire life. 

It would be easier to brush off if he'd been normal. He looked too pretty to manage on that score, deep green eyes, long pale blond hair he just couldn't let anyone else cut. He'd thought about it, once or twice, but just imagining the concept brought on the nightmares threefold. He really didn't need that, he had enough trouble sleeping as it was. But he had that passing resemblance from what he could figure, even though he avoided black clothing like the plague. 

But his name was still Sephiroth. He still had the nightmares of _being_ the man. He'd heard all about what he'd been before the end from his mom. He was her hero when she was a kid, the big guy that stood up for the world. She'd never believed the media when they pointed him as the source of any woes. He'd only learned about it in school because of that guy Cloud Strife. Now _that_ was a pretty guy. Even the white streaks in the blond hair didn't take anything away from him. But, yes. Sephiroth's down going wasn't the biggest topic ever, hadn't been for a long time, but his name still drew out the occasional pitying look.

He didn't like those looks, not really, and those days his fingers itched to set loose the strange magic under his skin just to make them stop. People said his mom was off in the head. He didn't think so, she was just too idealistic, tucked into the past, to see anything but what she wanted. His dad was long dead. He didn't need more things to make people talk, and using his magic would do it. Normal people didn't use raw magic outside limit breaks. 

And there really were days that he wouldn't mind being normal.

Most of the time though, he reveled in difference. He didn't enjoy pity, but he adored awe. He loved making people turn him into the center of their universe. He was popular to some, seemed like he had friends off into miles.

None of them were at all close.


	7. Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tifa was Bitter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November of 2010.

He always pretended to be a hero.

She’d noticed that a long time ago, and she’d never really approved. 

First, he claimed to be a SOLDIER. She knew it was a lie. Then he turned on them, claimed agony in the face of doing exactly what he wanted to, ripping their little band of rebels apart. Another lie in the sorrow and regret. Finally, he broke and showed memories that all over said ‘look I defeated the bad man,’ and those were a lie too. All he did was make his master stronger. 

And those were all just the recent things. The things in the last year before they’d killed Sephiroth, leaving the little false hero to pick his way through a path where he couldn’t constantly prove he was the hero. He hadn’t been a hero when he’d needed to be. He hadn’t saved her father or intervened to keep Sephiroth from killing his mother. He hadn’t helped anything at all in their home, and when he finally came back to visit he _hid_ like a coward. 

Because he couldn’t say he was a hero if he was just a normal man, now could he? No, so he hid, avoided them instead of warning them. Tossing his comrade aside when he knew a bridge was faulty when he could very well have warned the man and shared a bit of glory for the situation by admitting _he knew a better way_.

Instead, he’d been a coward. Only once she was badly injured and unable to refute him did he show himself, pretending to be that hero as he appeared from practically nowhere to go after the man that had hurt her.

He was a bastard and a liar, and he’d always been that way. She’d tried, once, to see past that when they were children, but it had gotten her hurt. She hadn’t given him the chance again, but still, somehow, it had come full circle and she’d been hurt again.

She’d tried, oh she’d _tried_ to forgive him. Tried to ignore what he’d done, the way he’d just let things go through his fingers until he caught at something that would get him praise. It wasn’t always big praise. No, it was often that selfish bit of something that was helping others to help yourself.

She’d never seen him help someone who didn’t ask him for it. No, he always had to be told ‘they need help’ or ‘help me’ and then suddenly he’d be there, and someone would be there to thank him because they asked. He never helped when there wasn’t some obvious gain, no matter how small, and she tried so hard to overlook it. 

Maybe he just needed guidance, maybe he just wanted to not interfere. 

But some days... it was _hard_. She didn’t like his hero complex, his pressing need to have everything just so in all the wrong ways. He was fixated on the dead, and that didn’t help a thing. She commented on it, more than once, but only because she couldn’t say what she wanted to. 

“Stop pretending Cloud.”

They were words she would never, could never, say, so they lingered in her heart.

Someday, they would burn through and he’d know how bitter she was over all the little lies, but not today.

It was never today.


	8. The Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tseng was not going to be forgiving of this transgression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 2009.

If anything had ever tempted him to kill Hojo, it was this. It had been bad enough when the two Generals had gone herring off because the man had been fixated on keeping his Sephiroth project separate from them. It had been worse when he’d had to step aside and pretend not to see Zack and the cadet he’d been fond of taken into project terms. 

But this? How many lines did he expect them to be willing to cross? They were not numerous in the way they once were. Not as shaded in their skills. No, now every one of them was treasured by the others, so _why_ did the man press them like this?

What did he think they would do? Turn a blind eye?

This time, he had to at least assure that his subordinate was whole. 

Reno may be an annoyance, but he was _his_ annoyance to handle, and he didn’t appreciate the scientist taking liberties with him.

He had to pause as he passed into a room with the dim, eerie light of mako. What reason did he have to need _mako_ near his subordinate?

Locking his jaw for a moment to refrain from giving the cameras any indication of his displeasure, he smoothed down his dark suit and then moved deeper into the lab. This would not be happening if the man hadn’t waited until he’d been on a long-term mission to put forth any kind of report, or, as the situation was here, a request to _borrow_ someone from his ranks. As least the bastard had given him a location in the papers he’d left for him.

It was only when he tried to pass into the room where he was expecting Reno to be that he finally met resistance. It wasn’t a guard, just a lock that didn’t accept his codes. Nor Rufus’. Nor, even, the others that he’d lifted from Hojo’s files for this sort of event. It was only when he started going through older codes, ones used on cryptic project notes from years before, that he finally had any kind of success. 

That alone made him quite uneasy. Hojo was a man of habit, so using such old codes surely had a meaning. 

And the feeling was rewarded. Amply. And in painfully vivid illustration.

Slipping quickly across the room, his fingers hovered over the pad so he could release the liquid in the tank where Reno was drifting, but a glance over the changed body had him turning in place to go through the files laid out instead, checking for indications that air was still safe for the man, assurance that taking him out of the chemicals wouldn’t kill him. Thankfully, the notes indicated he was exposed to straight air at least one time per day. 

Only then did he empty the tank, stepping into it and unmindful of the slimy liquid clinging to his shoes as he leaned to pick up the slumped redhead. He ignored the tacky fluid sinking into his suit, and just narrowed his eyes as he noted the far too numerous limbs that laid limp over his arm. They, apparently aware of the look directed at him, moved in a sluggish way to coil around him, then the man in his arms stirred a little in a muddled way.

It was time to go then. He slipped out of the tank and went to collect Reno’s things so they could leave.

He took back what he’d been thinking before. There was no temptation any longer. He’d twisted the physical form of one of his people. He would allow Rufus to understand his reason, then Hojo would die.

All other matters would be dealt with after that was satisfied.


	9. Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The souls who became those who lived didn't know what they'd done until all was said and done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 2008

"This time, I want to be the bad guy."

"No, you don't. The bad guy always loses."

"No he doesn't! You almost never lose."

"That's because I know what I'm doing. Practice. You wouldn't be a good bad guy."

"Isn't that a contradiction? And hey, maybe I'd be a better bad guy than you."

"No, you wouldn't."

A soft laugh broke across the childish squabbling, and this voice was just as genderless and light as the other two. "Bored so soon? I thought you would have lasted longer, it's only been a few centuries since the last game."

"Easy for you to say, you have something to do. You never play our game. I think you should this time, be involved instead of just to the side like usual."

"Oh? So we're letting that one be the bad guy while I'm... what? The hero?"

"No. If I'm the bad guy, then the hero has to be that one there. You should be the girl! There always needs to be a girl."

The one with silver eyes shook its head, then looked past the others, the appointed bad guy and yet undecided to the one moving towards them. "Gold was the mother last time."

The bad guy, blue eyed and shining, seemed to pout. "But she died before the game even began. I think that doesn't work well at all."

The one in discussion turned fire tinged orange on the other two, laughing again. "Fine. I'll choose the ambiguous third party. I'll outlive you both."

The good guy laughed, shaking its head. "You have to be involved."

"I'll be involved, I promise you. You'll regret dragging me in by the time we're through."

The bad guy turned to follow the gaze of the good. "If we're going to play such a different game, we should invite the others. See who here wants to do something else."

"Some of us like who we once were." It was the one that had caught their attention, radiant and black. "But I will play. I will be the girl."

"But you've never played a girl before." Who asked was hard to say, silver and blue still watching closely.

"I am aware. I know some who would like to play other roles as well. I even found a field."

"You were bored!" This time from the third party, and they all laughed at the scorn in posture in turn.

"I was. We have visited there several times, but other souls always go instead. It needs a good game."

"This is going to change you all." Soft white light was all that could be seen of the new, chiding them all. "We never finish games the same as we began them."

"Is that so bad?" It was the blue, the one that started it all, wanting to be the bad guy.

"...No. It would be boring otherwise. But I choose the father. I want to be like myself when the game is finally finished."

Blackness swelled and flexed, and the Girl turned in place. "You know these games always do the unexpected once we place the pieces."

"The best friend." Soft and small, the voice drifted through, delicate crystalline joining the circle. "I think we should let the others come as they may... if none of you mind so."

There was a pause, each seeming to consider the quiet one, the one who seemed to always be away from their games entirely. That this one wished to play... There were nods. The rest could be surprises then. 

"I suppose you go first then Father. Then me. I want to be ready when the rest arrive."

The bad guy was overeager, but it was a gentle soul and didn't realize what it asked. In time though, it would understand. Still, changing the roles never did any harm, it just kept them from being bored.


	10. Tilt the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth didn't believe them until he saw it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> July 2009.

He knew it wasn’t exactly the most boyish hairstyle he could have chosen, but it was a matter of pride. Rude had more than insinuated that he would look like a girl if he did it, thus, it must be done to prove him wrong. Genesis, of course, found the entire thing hilarious, and Angeal was off with Veld doing something or other.

He was pretty sure that Angeal’s mother was dating the man now but he really wasn’t all that sure. He’d have to check with Ifalna later on if they never confirmed it.

Or his dad. Not that his dad was ever more forthcoming with information. No, when he really wanted information it was always best to harass Rude’s father, because that man was more than willing to tell him all kinds of things, but only so long as he made really really sure to keep them a secret. The more secrets he kept, the more things he was willing to tell him.

Rude’s father said that he would have been a good Turk if they hadn’t decided to stay on Vincent’s side of the conflict and take Shinra down, so that was a really big compliment.

Shaking off the thoughts, he leaned over the counter of the bathroom to eye his hair, making completely sure that the part in his long dark hair was perfectly even. Even if the hairstyle was... feminine, he was _not_ going to make it lopsided. Satisfied, he started braiding one side, then the other, before leaning back and eyeing himself with critical green eyes.

Damn. 

He really did look like a girl.

Well, too late now. Lifting his chin and straightening his back with pride, he finally left the bathroom at a march. If the other boys laughed at him, fine. He was the oddball anyway. Stronger than the normal kids, but not as strong as Genesis and Angeal. His father said it was because he interrupted the process of whatever it was early. He personally thought it just made him rather... well, in the middle. 

At least Aeris seemed to be really fond of him, and Gast had been looking after all three of _them_ , the boys who weren’t normal. He’d had to do a lot with all of them, careful things. He said that none of them were quite stable, but Ifalna was helping him with whatever it was he was doing, so he didn’t wonder too much.

Ifalna seemed to know everything after all. 

Aeris pretended she did too, but she was just four. Four year olds really _couldn’t_ know everything.

Finally reaching where he’d left the other boys, he just crossed his arms and scowled. 

Not even five seconds later, Genesis was rolling on the floor in laughter and Rude was pinching the tip of his own nose with a strangled noise and a smile of his own.

“Just laugh.” He uncrossed one arm to wave at Genesis. “Get it _all_ out of your system. I mean, it’s not like I ever saw you put on makeup or anything before Genesis. And Rude, well, you don’t have any _hair_.”

Genesis stopped laughing long enough to stick out his tongue, then just smirked, though Rude looked a bit more sheepish. “He only doesn’t have hair because Aeris kept playing with it.”

”I wasn’t overly fond of having my hair pulled.” The dark skinned child just sniffed, though his smiled never faded, even when he dropped his hand. “But you do look like a girl.”

“Fine, you were right. It took me an hour to get this right though so I’m _not_ taking it down today.”

”You’re kidding.”

Rolling his eyes at Genesis, he just pointed at a hip length brown haired braid. “I have hair that actually goes past my ears Genesis. No, I’m not.”

At this, the other two boys just shared a look, and Sephiroth decided it was time he took his leave of everyone before the rugrat found out he had his hair in _braids_ and thus absolutely _must_ play with them.

It was futile, of course, but he was going to try anyway.


	11. Unreal Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud woke into a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 2006.

His eyes were, for the first time in nearly a year, focused and aware. Completely aware as everything was driven away from the forefront but the now, the sudden painful clarity of blood on his body and the lack of breath from the face resting against his neck. It was a horrible wrong reality that came so sudden and sharp that he almost begged the voices that had kept him inside himself for so long to come back. He didn't want to wake up for _this_. He didn't want to live _this_. He didn't want this at all, and this is what he came back to? The report of the gun hadn't driven him back out of the arms of the voices before, why now? 

Why did this cause him to come out now? 

He made a low sound and lifted his hands, shaky and disbelieving, denying the blood that his fingers found when he pressed them against the body. He scrabbled a little, pressing the dead form closer in an act of denial, as though he'd be able to press the body inside himself and it would be animated again. No, Zack was never so quiet. 

He'd been listening to him all this time, so he couldn't be asleep, he couldn't have passed out on him like this could he? He was going to need to wake up and they'd get moving along like they usually did, and this was not blood. It wasn't blood. It wasn't blood and he felt steady breathing on his skin.

Deep breaths. In, out, in out. He could feel them, steady and slow. Zack wasn't talking yet but the breathing was there, so clearly _clearly_ he couldn't be as his senses were trying to tell him. He wouldn't wake up to this. Zack would never ever let him wake up to this. This was all just one big prolonged nightmare, that's what it was. 

That's what it had to be. He remembered every story Zack had ever told him vividly, enough so that he could have been there himself. He knew this wasn't one of them. So it was just a nightmare and he was going to wake up, really wake up, and Zack would ruffle his hair and ask him if he'd had a rough night and he'd be fine.

Because this wasn't real. 

It was not real. He'd even take it up with the dream. He'd be just like he'd always thought things were going to be, take up the stories he'd been told, take them to heart and it would all be okay. He'd hit where it turned into a nightmare again and wake up before the voices started this time, and it would be just like any other morning on the base.

He could feel the breathing, steady and slow, so it had to be from the one he was hugging tightly against him. He must just have his head turned so he couldn't feel the breathing on his skin, that was all. That had to be all. 

They'd need to get a bath later, because whatever they'd been into was a mess. Just a mess, because there wasn't any blood. That was just the nightmare trying to fool him. 

Because he wouldn't wake up to this.

That wasn't something Zack would have let happen.

When he closed his eyes instead of looking away from the sky, the warm streaks that slid from his eyes weren't happening either. 

It just wasn't real.


	12. Fallen Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He made a mistake, and he paid for it for a long time after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> December 2008.
> 
> A society where Incubi exist. This was inspired by a fanart.

They had finally deemed him old enough to hunt alone.

None of the others would overshadow his catch and take part of the essence, no others would interfere when he believed it had just gotten to that perfect point. He could have his hunt alone, and not share with one who was more annoyance than protector.

He was sure it had to do with age, of course. The very young ones were often considered more bait than hunter, and he had barely passed into what the humans called their young teens. Then again, some of the others he had seen _were_ weak without help, and again, most humans would question their fortune on finding such a child with no keeper.

Thus, he could not argue how a child was made to hunt, but he was free of that now, and he had left as it was time for him to do. 

Unfortunately, he felt spoiled for variety. The first city he’d come to was nearly overwhelming without another to siphon off some of the emotions, and he found himself skirting back out of it with no prey, feeling sick from unhealthy emotions. Lust simply should not be tempered by so many horrible feelings. It should be _clean_!

He could not, however, avoid cities forever. He was young, he needed food and the best places were among the herds of humans that took to the cities. 

Perhaps he could lure one away here?

Yes... that would be best. If he could bring one to him he could avoid making himself ill and still get his needs met. 

The plan went well, for a time, rumor spread slowly of a fae in the woods, out towards the old keep, and the deeper rumor that labeled the fae as a soul eater only encouraged some of the more perverse, which only did him well.

Unfortunately, he was young, and had not yet learned the fallacy of such thinking. 

He was caught. 

It was a hunt like another, the one he’d fixed his attention on a young man, one who might return two or three times before falling to exhaustion and never waking, and he was even a lovely one too. He preferred that in his prey than a hideous beast of a human who was only good for soothing the niggling start of starvation.

This one had paid attention to rumors, looked into them, and had the power to do so. 

He did not come alone.

One moment he’d slipped from behind the trees, his green feline eyes meeting the gray of the blond’s, the next he found himself falling, pain racing over his skin from a point at his back. 

His hair worked against him, silver obscuring his view of the other assailants as he struggled to maintain focus.

However, it was simply not to be. 

From then, he did see that prey again, but the situation was not to his liking.

He was smaller, not yet full grown, and the prey was taller by a bit. He wanted to consume everything of the man, take his essence and soul into him, take because the human did not deserve his life.

He was chained. Cold iron made it so he could not properly eat. He could barely sustain himself on the bits of lust he gleaned, and only then when he was physically touching the other. 

Thus, the human worked around his desires and simply did as he pleased. It left him feeling more used than satisfied, no matter the praise and petting the blond might give him after. He drew out the visits as long as he could to try to ease the ache of his hunger. No matter the humiliation that being so yielding would otherwise bring him, he could not think of it when that was all he had. It was his only chance of focus and relief.

The room he lived in was cold, lightless, and without a bed to sleep on. There was no creature comforts to the way he was chained, unable to rise above a crouch, skin exposed to open air. The human brought blankets when he came, and that was a small respite, but he felt his spirit being slowly crushed by the ache of captivity and hunger. 

Human food did nothing to satiate his needs. Human food was not the pure sensation that was growing harder to remember with each passing day of iron on his skin.

And then one day, even that so unfavorable contact passed away, leaving him alone, forgotten, for a very, very long time, with only the cold and dark to keep him company.

In that time, he forgot. He forgot what a hunter he had been for a short time. He forgot that the need he was waiting to soothe did not need only be soothed by the one who had come to him for the years he had lived. He forgot what it was like to stand, and be warm.

He forgot most everything, save his name and that he was waiting.

He was Sephiroth, and whoever finally unlocked him would have everything he could give them, because he was waiting, and had been waiting, for them to return to him for far, far too long.


	13. Better This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth realizes Jenova isn't all she promises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 2007.

It was all rather pointless, unrelieved stupidity, and he was loathe to admit he'd been taken under for so long as he had. His puppet, not broken of the strings, but believing himself such, had oddly been the one to snap him out of the haze that his mother… No, not his mother, simply another of a set of parents, no more important than the one he had never met or Hojo… had kept him under. There was nothing in this for him.

If he destroyed the world, he would lose his playthings. If he destroyed the world, he would be even more alone than he had been before, and then… what use would his _mother_ have for him then, when he'd done her work? He could push her away now, deny her her demands, and he would lose nothing. 

He had already lost everything that could have been counted as anything of consequence with his stupidity, but he had also gained as much in turn. The world as his playground, and all that stood in his way was his prized puppet toy. 

So he'd cut the strings once and for all and destroy it. 

It would be a small loss, compared to everything else, and he would find other ways to gain what his mother had made him crave. But he would have it his way, not hers.

Never hers again.


	14. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth is lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2006.

He’s come to save me. Angry, determined, but hopeful, always so hopeful. Bright eyed in that stubborn hopefulness. I want to smile… but that wouldn’t be right. The past is gone, everything that it was. I can remember, flick from one thing to another in our past… but he doesn’t understand. He doesn’t understand even when he wants me to come with him. 

He’s right there if I could just reach out. Always right there, with me. But it’s too late. He wasn’t there while there was a chance. 

So now there isn’t one.

There can’t be one. 

I’ve already lost.

He’ll fall away into death… and I’ll remember that. He gave me too much. Too much.

I’ll remember him… but he’s already gone. 

There was no hope, but he tried.

He tried.


	15. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack was misbehaving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 2007.

The meeting had run over. Of course, they tended to do that when anything even remotely in the political spectrum was involved, so there was little to be done about it. 

Still, Zack really should not have made the time seemingly draw out, skewing his focus so he had to pay the annoying man on the opposite side of his desk more attention. He didn't want the man to get the idea that he had more of his respect than he really did, and he had the feeling that this particular appointment might have given the man a different impression.

Thankfully, it was doubtful it had been noticed, and the official walked out the door without Sephiroth's attention veering away from what it was supposed to be on. He managed to keep his expression even until the door closed.

At that point he immediately dropped a hand beneath his desk to tangle his fingers in dark hair, hissing at the man hiding there as he looked down to him. "I should hurt you for that."

He let himself shiver over the laugh that got, fingers tightening as he felt a sweep of tongue he was sure the man was deeming as 'apologetic.' Deciding he could punish him for this mess later, he relaxed into what was going on now. 

After being teased for over an hour, he'd earned it.


	16. Unanticipated Spin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud did not expect to see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September 2006.

The last thing he'd expected to see on entering the room was Vincent in Rufus' lap and the two doing their level best to locate the tonsils of the other. In fact, he was sure that wasn't what he was seeing, and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes as though to make sure that the visual was purely in his imagination. When he moved his hands, he realized that he was, indeed, not seeing things. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, but the words 'no way in hell' made a bit of an appearance.

So, retreat firmly in mind, he backtracked for the door, freezing when his back made contact with someone warm and sturdy. That just wasn't fair! Not that anything was ever fair, but the point here was that if he just _had_ to see his lover making out with someone, he could have at least been given a clean escape. 

Fate just had to be against him today. Again. For the umpteenth time in his life. "Strife."

"…Rude." Stepping away from the man, a quick glance showed that yes, he did have the attention of the pair in Rufus' chair. "If you'll excuse me…" 

When he moved to duck around the stoic man, that just brought him nose to nose with Reno, who had been on his heels entering the room. "Hey now, what's the hurry yo?" 

The temptation to tell him exactly what was wrong was right there, but Vincent's quiet voice broke in before he could verbally, or even physically, bat the redhead out of the way. "Cloud?"

Sighing, he turned around, ignoring the two Turks as he looked over at the black haired man. "I didn't know you two were together."


	17. Death Scene

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Aeris had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> September 2007.

They had talked about many things, and she had done her part until now, but she had her doubts about this. She cared for Cloud. Truly and deeply cared for him... but that wasn’t going to be enough to stop this from happening. Holy needed a threat to be used, and Meteor was nothing if not perfect. 

She just wished that they didn't have to use this ploy on Cloud. “I don’t think he’ll understand Seph.”

The silver haired man shook his head slightly, lips twisting in something not cruel, but far from kind or mirthful. “I would not expect him to. Did you honestly think he would understand? Any of it?”

She sighed, staring at where she needed to be to cast, to draw them here to see. “... No. He doesn’t even know himself.”

“But I know him. It is enough for this to work as it ought Aeris. If he is meant to be with you, then he will have to live in our vision of the world.” He quirked an eyebrow at her on a dark little laugh. “And you do want the world to be pure again, don’t you?”

“Yes.” It was a sigh, and she closed her eyes, nodding to the man as she settled into the kneel. “Yes, I do.”

“Then do not think on his reaction. He needs to be broken to be fixed. We are _both_ well aware of that.”

She met his eyes, then nodded firmly, once, before closing hers. Yes, this needed to be done. It was going to hurt, in more than one way, but the results would be worth it. 

They just had to bring him here.


	18. Make Your Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hojo didn't care for Gast's choices. He was worth more than a reptile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 2007.

There were times when he felt that the world was supremely unfair. He, of course, brushed them off quickly because it was utterly pointless, not to mention silly, to think in terms of fair and unfair. He was a scientist, not a little girl. Still, he did not appreciate the irony of watching his longstanding companion turn completely oblivious to the very concept of opportunity when it literally came to call.

The man had been chosen by a wyvern and he was going to do nothing to further their outstanding projects because of it. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the man get acquainted with the gold and green creature, then slipped away to plan. He'd already spoken to him once about it, but the man had been dense, excited and utterly overemotional about the entire thing. 

In essence, he'd just turned his back on someone he really shouldn't have.

That, at least, was more than simple enough to take care of. The wyvern first, then the man. At least that way, Ifalna wouldn't be there to attempt to defend her new human. Aside from that, perhaps he could use the chance to make sure that Gast wouldn't have a change of heart. He was a decent companion, perhaps too moralistic, but he was satisfying intellectually. 

At least, he had been before the last day. The man fully intended to leave here, their research abandoned for a bundle of scales and feathers. It was abhorrent. Yes, yes, he knew all about the bonds and nonsense that came with being chosen on either side, but there was no good for it if one didn't even bother to use them as they should be used.

Perhaps he would have taken the entire situation with more of a positive outlook if he knew that the man intended to return. But no, apparently he'd offended and the man was more than happy enough packing up his things to leave with a… well, with a beast. 

His time so limited, he knew he had no opportunities to waste. So he took the ones he was provided. The wyvern was egg heavy, that bit slower that any animal became when pregnant, so he used it against her while Gast was inside. He really had no chance against one of these creatures when in prime form, so he was sneaky, quick, and deadly. The scales, the feathers, the tough hide didn't protect the beasts entirely, and there were weaknesses to exploit.


	19. Don't You Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cid meets Zack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2007.
> 
> This totally has a related fic! [This chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5963454/chapters/13709920) in the Springkink compilation.

There he was, minding his own business when some no good little brat came into his hangar and tried to pull something funny. He almost hadn't caught it, and was dead certain the kid didn't see him, though a good look at him made him wonder how the hell that could be.

Wasn't like a SOLDIER to be so unobservant. 

Or maybe the brat just plain didn't care he was there and was set to go about doing his own thing anyway. Which could possibly have been the case, but the kid made one serious error in judgement thinking that he'd just let him do as he pleased. He was the head mechanic here, and he was perfectly happy with the task of reminding anyone who forgot that. 

The kid, of course, much like his nebulous sense of awareness of his presence, either didn't know, or didn't care about his status around here. Something he really shouldn't have done when he was well within easy throwing distance of said ignored mechanic. Seeing as he was a SOLDIER, he was damn sure the kid could dodge, catch, or, at the very least, survive a wrench to the head, something which was currently being delivered with a damn fine aim.

"What the fuck you think you're doing to that machine boy?" The shout got the added bonus of the boy giving him a wide-eyed look as he dipped to avoid the metal tool, twisting to look his way. The look turned sheepish right quick, but he couldn't really say he was impressed at the quick recovery, instead just taking a drag off his cig as he straightened up, staring down at the brat on the ground level of the hangar as he waited for him to explain himself. "Well?"

"Nothing much. I just wanted to make a couple adjustments, no biggie." The kid couldn't have been less convincing if he'd stuck his hands in his pockets and started whistling. Though, that could've just been him and his excellent people reading skills.

No biggie his ass. "Like I'm gonna believe that pile of chocobo shit. You just scoot your ass right back out that door and I might pretend I didn't catch you at it if someone asks me. Try it again and next time I'll do a damn sight better to make sure that tool connects with your person, enhanced or not, got it?"

"Yeah, sure, got it. Hey, I'm Zack Fair." How that could make the kid grin, he had no idea, but he hoped that didn't mean the kid wasn't taking him seriously. Just because he could and would do it didn't mean he wanted to waste the time on it.

"Fair huh? Hm. Cid Highwind. Now, beat it, us working folk don't have time to slack off like you SOLDIER brats."

"Hey!" A laugh followed the word and he watched the kid move off, giving a jaunty wave at the doorway. "See you around Cid!" 

He waited until the brat was gone before shaking his head and turned back to the comfortably greasy machinery he'd been dealing with before he'd been interrupted. It only took a second before he cursed, realizing that he had to go down after the wrench if he wanted to finish working with this section of engine.

Fucking brat.


	20. Point of Origin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reno wasn't what he seemed to be. Mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2007.

He wasn't _actually_ a slum rat. In fact, one could say he was sort of the opposite. Not that he cared, being a slum rat to the others suited him fine, made life smooth and cool when they didn’t look too deep. Kept people out of his business when he wanted em to and as long as he kept up the appearance, hey, it's not like anyone else would care either.

It didn't work on his fellow Turks. At least not all of them. Those it did… well, he was sure they'd find another line of work or die in this one. It was just that way the cards went usually. The boss found it amusing, playing up his wild 'uneducated' image for him, letting him run a bit wild to trick the new ones so he could see if they'd do their homework.

He was sorely disappointed to realize that most took it at face value, figured that because he said he was nobody that he really was. It pretty well limited his pool of prospective pals, since hey, no point getting attached to a Turk who already had one foot in the grave and was trying to get the other over the ledge. 

He would have thought the facial markings were a clue. 

Seriously. Who in the slums could afford to have that kind of so obvious sign that says 'I am me!' on em? Sure, sure, he had the red hair, but he wasn't the only one out there that did, and just because he was known in the slums didn't mean he started out as one of em.

He had the marks well before then, back when he was just a brat learning his social graces. Had em when he met the boss the first time, that was for damn sure. Course, boss was the one that gave him the idea to be a Turk. Knew he had a violent streak and liked to pry into things he wasn't supposed to, so told him to come on board so he could play it up and get paid doing what he liked to.

He said they were good traits for this line of work, though he couldn’t say he'd been seeing a hell of a lot of it since he got here. He felt no shame in looking into the backgrounds of his fellow Turks, what little there was, or the total lack of it in other cases, but he still looked. He didn't take too far to hide what he was personally. Shook his family name off and never regretted it once.

He was just Reno. Tricky bastard extraordinaire.

And most people took that at face value, shame on them that it was. Not like he'd be pissed his past was poked into. He was a Turk. Being a Turk meant that you were supposed to expect these kinda things, and being all upset about it was just plain stupid.

Still, it was kinda fun when the new ones did do their homework. Like the new one sitting just so in front of him, Elena. She looked so appalled he just wanted to roll it in.

That right there would have made it all worth it. 

Well, if the job hadn't done it already anyway.

Because he _was_ a Turk, and being a Turk was so damn _fun._


	21. Freudian Twist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud just wanted him to put on pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2007.

He knew it was a bad idea to let Kadaj get the remains of the head. Nothing good ever came from Jenova, but he was pretty sure the remnant just plain didn't _get_ that. Stubborn, persistent, all the childishly intense traits and that damn charisma of Sephiroth's rolled up into a too young package that wanted something he wasn't ever going to get.

Watching him fall, he leapt to follow, knowing he couldn't give this distance or things would drag out more than they already were. Bring the weapon down and around and…

There, it connected, but really not the way he expected it to… 

Masamune?

Sephiroth?

Kadaj had turned into Sephiroth. To say that was jarring was an understatement, and he felt his eyes widen before he sprang backwards, landing quickly as he tried to process the sudden change. 

Of course, he didn't really get much further than that as he realized what the man was wearing. 

Or, in this case, not wearing. 

Which happened to be anything at all. 

Masamune in one hand, the only thing the man had covering him was his hair, and he really thought he couldn’t be blamed for the fact he suddenly lost his grip on his sword. Still, it was hardly good for self-preservation that he ended up fumbling his weapon and dropping it to the ground with a resounding clang that broke through the quiet that had fallen between them. 

Apparently, judging from the stunned look that crossed his face when the silver haired man realized what that breeze he was feeling was and looked down, the man hadn't expected to arrive au natural any more than he had. Not that the view was bad or anything. 

And he was staring. Staring instead of stabbing. Right, stabbing. Stabbing would be very, very nice.

He was highly tempted to smack himself just to get his brain back on track, because while the man may have been a mass of pretty skin and well-formed muscles under that silver hair, he was the enemy. One was not supposed to ogle their enemy. 

He only just remembered to snatch up his blade before resuming the attack, which thankfully got things on track. With a bit of concerted effort on his part at least, not so much from Sephiroth.

Hard, the rhythm of the battle quickly blocked the nudity from his mind as he slipped back into the mindset, hard fierce blows taking up the whole of his attention as he moved, attack, defend, deal with an obstacle, defend, defend, _defend_. 

He wasn't exactly shocked to find himself slammed down to a final stop after several minutes of this, and the wall at his back as good as jarred him into staring once more at his naked nemesis. Whose crotch was suddenly eye level and… oh gods.

He couldn't do this.

Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep breath and hoped that the gods would take pity on him, since that was as good as asking for death in this situation. "Can I finish this fight with you after you put some clothes on instead of us doing this now? Please?"

Only silence met the question, and he could almost feel the air of pause that it spurred. Then it was gone. When he opened his eyes to no longer having a naked Sephiroth standing in front of him, he almost, _almost_ sagged in relief.

Then he felt the very intense urge to smack his head against something as he realized that he just let the man get away.


	22. Helping in the Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack was _not_ weirded out by the flower thing. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> October 2006.

She was selling the flowers again. Not that he minded or anything, but he still wanted to pout. Those were _his_ flowers, his little babies. She thought he was funny to think of them like that, but she was one to talk! He'd caught her singing to them. 

She'd been the one to make with the weird bedroom activities that had spawned his obsession in the first place, and if there were repercussions to that, well, it wasn't really his fault at all. Really. Even if he told the flowers goodbye before heading back to the barracks. That was just being a good gardener. It had nothing to do with the bedroom activities…

Even when said bedroom activities tended to spend way too much time in the dirt of the church because his girl had a really close affinity for the planet. As well as things of the planet. Including things that felt like parts of the planet that no living creature should ever be able to provide. 

It wasn't his fault if the mako got diluted just right between shot and, well, fun.

But he wasn't a living lifestream dispenser! Not all the time anyway. And it wasn't like it wasn't any fun... 

He was pretty sure that whole side effect of being a SOLDIER was why sexual activities were encouraged all the time. It wasn't just the scientists being perverts; they actually had a purpose. Though he was sure they were all perverts in their little black hearts. It was one of his theories. 

He even had the theory that mako build up was why Seph was so potent.

He didn't have sex, therefore, he had all this over the top backlog in his system that wasn't worked out naturally, so what happened? He got more powerful, sure, but he also ended up wound tighter than a spring with no idea that he was messing himself up in the first place. Not that he'd managed to convince him of this theory's truth. But he'd been trying.

Getting Seph laid would do wonders for the man's health. Save him from an early death by implosion even. It certainly wasn't a sacrifice to him, because Seph was Seph, and everyone could see how shiny the man was at thirty paces. Not that that was the point. No. It was for his health. Yes. His health. He was a good friend like that.

In the meantime, while that service went unrealized, his girlfriend had zeroed in on the possibilities it posed to her gardening. It made sex really, really weird some days. And it made him eerily fond of the flowers.

They were sort of like kids, since Aeris so determinably used bits of him to make them, what with the bad growing conditions when he wasn't helping in his own special way. It helped make the flowers better, well, that particular kind of flower anyway, and she didn't get as tired doing it. 

He wasn't sure what else she did with her flowers though, and he didn't ask. Some things he didn't need to know. Besides, what he was doing was more than enough.

And it was not weird.

Really. 

He was just helping out his girlfriend with the garden. 

He was that special kind of guy.

Nothing more to say.

No, really.


	23. Deeper Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud hated leather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 2007

He hated leather. Okay, he didn't hate all leather, just leather clothing. On a machine or gloves, it was tolerable, it didn't draw his aversion, and if someone else was wearing it, then he had learned how to get used to the idea of just that one person wearing it.

He separated out the scent of it in his mind so that it was just 'part of that person' instead of being leather. Vincent and Tifa were prime examples of this, and he never mentioned to the latter what he was sure the former already knew. It was part of why he tended to stay away from home more than he should, because the scent and sight of leather bothered him.

He never said anything because he knew that Tifa really enjoyed wearing it, and he didn't want her to go out of her way and change something like that about herself. Or, worse and more in keeping with her approach to things, try to do something as unnerving as trying to _fix_ his aversion to it.

It was entirely too likely he'd get a knowing look and they'd assume, very much inaccurately, that his aversion and dislike of the material had to do with Sephiroth. That wasn't it. Yes, Sephiroth wore leather, yes that _added_ to the problem, but it wasn't at the root of it.

Really, if he wanted to point out the root of his hate, then he would have to point the finger at Hojo. The bastard could be considered the root of all evil, and he was certainly the root of all his major problems.

At one point, though the memory was hazy, he did remember enjoying leather for leather, whatever it was attached to or not. He couldn't really confirm the memory, having nothing around it to latch onto or compare it with, and he wasn't sure it was something he'd even had cause to think about before he joined the military. The memories from before then may have been clearer, but they were by no means reliable.

But that pleasure was essentially gone these days. It had been since he'd thought himself a SOLDIER for so long. He hadn't understood the reasoning at the time, had thought it had to do with his enemy and associations thereof, but he'd managed to figure out some things since then that made him realize it wasn't that simple.

If it had been that simple, he had the feeling he might have had a chance for getting over it.

This was deeper though, engraved into his bones and blood over the course of years… so he was stuck with it. 

A few years ago he'd forgotten his best friend and took his place in the world. It had been an act of self-defense, a guard against what Hojo had wanted, and Hojo had wanted a clone. He'd wanted someone to be Sephiroth for him again. At least, that was what he believed. Even if that hadn't been his true aim, it was still close enough that it didn't make any difference in the results.

The idea of wearing leather was _appealing_ , and thus, it was completely repellant. So, he avoided the idea, and he let himself safely hide behind the idea of hating it, taking care to get that idea as firmly planted in his mind as he could.

It was too close, and he knew something now, consciously, that he might have known when he'd assumed Zack's identity years ago. The big things wouldn't change who he was at his core.

The little things, however, would chip subtly away at his being and leave him without a grip on who he really was… or at least who he believed himself to be. 

He couldn't really risk it, risk changing in the direction he might go, so he stayed on guard. 

He had to be sure he noticed.


	24. Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A firmer thread than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2007

Twisting his blade so that the flat of it was parallel to the ground, he let a slow smile slip over his face, his glowing bright blue eyes looking sideways and up to the figure at his side and just behind him where he'd been watching. He knew he'd done well this time. He could feel the perfect clarity of the concept reverberating to his core.

There was blood, of course, but there was always blood in these endeavors, the exertion enough to make his body tingle as the burn curled through every pore of his body. He'd listened, and he'd succeeded. The reflection of the deep satisfaction was visible in the eyes of his watcher, though that might have been because he hadn't failed…

It was so strange to not fail. To be no failure. Almost dizzying in fact. 

He hadn't remembered being a failure for the longest time, of course, not until just a few moments before, with that snap in his reality… but that was of no relevance now. He would fail no more, and all he had to do was _listen_.

Twisting the huge blade in his hands and feeling positively giddy, he swept his gaze over to the other. The one watching. He registered the shock there, the tears on the woman's face. Aeris had her mouth covered with both hands, eyes wide, and he felt something ache in his chest for that.

She had to understand this was for his own betterment. She couldn't begrudge someone improving, becoming something better than they were. He understood now that nobody had the right to do that.

For her, he smiled, his own smile, small and edged in something he didn't even realize. 

Swinging the blade around once to bring it behind him, he snapped it to match the magnet at his spine and started to walk backwards, away from the crumpled form at his feet.

"Don't worry Aeris." He shook his head, reaching out to his side, asking, and the one that only he'd known was there moved forward, took the hand as the other hand rested at his waist. He knew the feline gaze was only for him. At the moment at least. "She's in a better place."

If anything, Aeris looked more stunned. Had she really thought it was only the three of them here? When had they ever honestly been alone? The look only lasted a flicker of a second before her resolve seemed to firm up, steps quickly bringing her towards him, towards Tifa as she extended a hand to him, as though try to reel him in. Asking him to accept the lifeline she was offering. "Cloud… Cloud, no."

"No? I… I'm sorry Aeris." He shook his head, pausing as he felt the hands on him tighten. There was no room to regret this, and she needed to understand. He knew they'd both cared about the other woman but there was nothing that could be done for her now. He couldn't let it phase him now, not when he was so close. "It doesn't work like that."

A whisper in his mind stopped him from continuing, from trying to explain how he needed this, needed to listen and learn what he really was. To finally find out how to really be happy instead of pretending. _Move with me._

The words, such a lure and so very calming, reassured him that this was the right course of action. When the man pushed off, it was so simple to echo him, weightless. "Goodbye, Aeris."

"Cloud!" She broke into a run, but she wasn't going to be able to catch them, and they could all see it.

"I'll miss you." 

Her eyes were stricken, and he left her alone with their dead friend. The death wasn't important. It couldn't be important. Not in the face of having done something right and having made someone he'd admired so very long happy with him.

Remembering reasons why that was bad was pointless, so instead he closed his eyes, sinking into the warm satin of the other man's control. His will. 

His future.


	25. Collection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cloud had to move his toys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 2007

Alright, so these had needed to be moved because some people were much too curious for their own good.

He'd only just stopped Marlene from finding some very weird items to play rocket ship with, so he figured he was well in rights to move these things somewhere a bit less… conspicuous than his dresser. Not that he was sure that this was better, but he was sure that Aeris' sense of humor would be more than capable of handling the irony.

If she was alive he'd never hear the end of it, and as it was… well, he still likely wouldn't hear the end of it, but it wouldn't be set off by someone chasing him with something that other people shouldn’t even be looking at, let alone touching. Other than himself anyway. If he didn't touch the things, then they'd still be in the boxes, and far more prone to curious little hands finding them.

Shaking his head, he picked his way through the church, looking here and there as he let a little smile cross his face, the warmth that radiated from the place seeping into his bones for a moment as he paused to take it in. That was how he knew that Aeris was still keeping an eye on this place really, that feeling.

And it made this process several dozen times more embarrassing. Poking around for the cubby where he'd hidden the materia, he checked that those were undisturbed before questing for another hiding place. He didn't want to put everything together. For one thing, a thief wouldn't realize what was what if they found them and that would be… awkward. For another, he really didn't want to leave magical items that close to his personal happy stash.

Not that he thought they'd do anything to them, but he could admit that seemed a bit grosser than he really wanted to get into. Slowly mapping out a few places that seemed to suit, he took the items and started tucking them into the nooks, making sure that they were completely out of sight. It took a while, and every creak of the floorboards had him twitching nervously, but he finally had them all tucked away where nobody was likely to stumble over them. 

Even with not so casual looking. 

That wasn't a laugh he heard behind him either. A glance confirmed that he was still alone and he nodded to himself, fidgeting. 

He hoped that Aeris didn't do anything bizarre to his collection. It was weird enough he had one at all.

He didn't need the things glowing in the dark too.


	26. Executives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zack paid attention to the details when it suited him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> April 2007

The meeting was boring. Boring boring boring. Then, after the so boring meeting, he had _another_ meeting. Yay.

Looking at the door, he hummed, trying to decide if this meeting would be better or worse. He voted for better, because it wasn't as though the vice president had had enough time to get moldy and long winded yet, what with being younger than he was, but there was really no telling. So, while he waited, he flirted with the pretty gal playing secretary, noting the sharp intelligence in her eyes.

She had quite a bit to say about her immediate boss, coming off as catty trying to be sweet instead of put upon like he was sure she was going for. It was kind of too bad really. If even half of what she was going on about was accurate, talking about it would lose her her job pretty quick, and that was just a shame. Waving bye to her as he was buzzed in, he finally padded into the office, taking in his surroundings in a long sweeping glance of the space.

There was class here, good taste, nothing near so bright and flashy as what the president kept trying to go for. Of course, the plants in the room might have had to do with it, since he rarely ever saw greenery when he wasn't down visiting with Aeris. Still, the teen he'd been directed to come see seemed to fit right in, looking older than his sixteen years and definitely too stern for his own good.

Hopefully the kid grew out of that. Flashing him a grin, he waved his hand loosely and padded up to the desk, dropping the folder in his other hand on it without preamble. "Hey there. You're Rufus Shinra right? Zack Fair."

Offering his hand got him stared at, the look far from friendly, clearly conveying the teen's disgust at the idea of touching him. "Yes, I am. What exactly are you here for?"

He didn't leave his hand hanging in the air long enough to let it get awkward and he met the disbelieving gray eyes easily as he pulled up a chair and settled in, smiling. "Well, I'm supposed to be in a meeting with you. Seems we've had a nice rash of monsters all over the continent, and we're getting a few requests from overseas. Now, this normally wouldn't be a problem, but apparently us SOLDIERs are getting involved now, so I get to play go to boy to get all this straightened out. Guess who I get to talk to to do that?"

"Considering you're here, I'm sure I haven't the slightest idea." The words were droll, the look he received even more so as the blond pulled the folder across the desk and set it to the side. "You can go, I'll contact you once I've had time to review these."

"No, no you missed the whole point here. The meeting thing is that whole discussion angle. Usually involves me being here, wasting your time telling you about something you can read for yourself, see?" Nodding slightly, he planted his elbows on the chair arms and folded his hands together as he leaned forward in the chair a bit.

He wasn't disappointed, though he thought he caught a tick near the teen's eye. Poor kid. If he were wound any tighter he'd likely explode all over the place. "Seeing as I _can_ read this for myself, you're quite excused, thank you. As I said, I'll contact you." Then the teen actually made a shooing motion, however subtle.

A _shooing_ motion! Okay, the kid _really_ needed to work on his person to peon skills. Not that he was a peon, but the little president in training was sure trying to get across that he was one. "And seeing as this _does_ affect people under my command… I'd rather do it now, thanks. I'm sure you understand, right?"

And there was that look again. He had nothing on Seph though, so the kid would just have to deal with him being right where he was. "I think you fail to understand what I'm saying Commander… Fair." The way he said his name was more disgusted than he really thought was fair. It was a good name. "I have other things to attend to, and while I may be in your schedule, you're quite unexpected in mine."

There was a lull, and the man turned to his papers, clearly expecting his dismissal to stick this time. When he looked up and frowned a few minutes later, all Zack did was grin. As the silence drew out, and the intensely annoyed look grew ever more irked, he finally spoke up. "Oh! I'm sorry, did I miss your subtle clue that I'm supposed to be kissing your ass now? I'll get right on that. Just as soon as you look over that report, alright?"

This time, there was no doubt in his mind that the blond had twitched. Ah well, the kid would get over it.

At least he wasn't bored anymore.


	27. Leniency

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth was well trained in certain respects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May 2007.

Some rules have no leniency. He knows this, and still those are the rules he tends to end up pushing against, wanting to see if they would snap with the pressure. He's young and recovers quickly from things done to him, he _knows_ this. 

That does not mean he is fond of the painful sensitivity of mako that is a regular part of his life. That does not mean he will not attempt to avoid it where possible, though years of ingrained habit have perhaps dulled that. No, instead he ends up twitching away from touch. When you aren't being hurt, the doctors find flinching offensive even if no insult was meant.

Thus, they make it hurt. It's never with sharp objects, nor even the intent to break skin. He's smaller than they are, is liable to be for quite some time yet, but that is just the way children grow. He has heard that as well, more than once. When he stopped being as easy to teach because he has passed that stage of life, then it would be time to take to more physical matters, strength, dexterity.

Very often, he goes along with the ebb and tide of his life easily, his lessons giving him on the vaguest insights into the things he should understand from these people. He is a project to most of them, and he knows this as well. 

They began to fear him as he grew older, his strength and possibility, yet still he never managed to avoid the urge to twitch away from leading touches too soon after Mako. Thus, someone was always angry at such times. When he was smaller, it was easier to avoid. Duck down, squirm out of a hold and run to another area until the painful intensity eased back into his blood, away from his skin. Once settled, a light touch wouldn't set off sparks of pain, and there would be no malicious pats and pettings to give overly sharp sensations. Unfortunately, he had gotten worse at avoidance as he had gotten older, until he couldn't duck loose anymore.

Such things remain routine, a small unspoken rule with a small pain. 

Others are more a fallacy. Looking into files where one wasn't permitted is a certain way to bring wrath, for instance, and it is never quite what one might expect. Once, it was cleaning the labs, the sting of bleach the sharper for contact with skin. Another time, an indiscretion had led to practice in an open area with flowers known for their abilities to give even him sores if he should be incautious enough to touch one. A practice not so bad had the entire ground not been carefully filled. A third mistake had led to the careful memorization of every strand and strain of a certain breed of animal. Mistakes would lead to introductions, weaponless of course, as not to hurt the creature, to the flaw in question, and physical contact would be demanded to clarify how he might have gotten any one certain impression. Usually, these mistakes had claws and fangs.

And then, there are those few rules he knows better than to contest. Do not ask questions about where he was as a child. Do not ask about many things. But most especially, he was not to know the extent of the gap between himself and others. Leaving the lab was not permitted, and he had.

And now, he was in trouble.

It was not a rule he'd pressed at before, but as he got older, the labs started to seem smaller. He started to grow curious about the smells that flowed in from outside the compound and the sights he could not see through his window. He was twelve, and curiosity was a natural phase.

He still knew he should have remained inside. 

He'd been given the mako early, only a day instead of a week, but it was still ahead of time, and it was off color in the same way an hour off would have been. The same way anything changed suddenly in his rigidly controlled schedule would be bad.

The fact that he'd done something bad enough to make the Doctor intensify his reactions beforehand… 

That just meant he'd learn. 

There was nothing else for it.

And he would never _ever_ forget.


	28. The Pun Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many puns that can be made about Zack's name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written March 2007 when Zack's last name was announced. It was a pun off. 
> 
> I still say I won. Here were mine.

Zack straddled Cloud's waist and grinned, leaning in. "You wanted fair? Well, you got Fair."

* * *

"Look, the world is not fair. The world does not do fair. Okay? I don't think the world even knows what fair is!"

Zack waved a hand a little and grinned, rather, leered. "I could show you a bit of Fair if you wanted."

Cloud just smacked a hand over his eyes and groaned. "Zack, not now."

* * *

He sighed and looked across the room to Zack, shaking his head. "Believe me, most of my life has been spent with people convincing me that there is no such thing as fair."

He flashed a wry grin back and shook his head. "Well, too bad for them, cause I'm right here. I'll always be Fair for you, how's that sound?"

* * *

Aeris barely let him get in the doorway before she had snatched up his wrist and wheeled him around to start dragging him unprotesting off down the street. "Aeris, where are we going?"

"There's a fair in town and I absolutely have to see it." She flashed him a grin and looped her arm around his. "And that means I need an escort."

"Now, see, I could have sworn we kept those sorts of things to being in pri-ack. Okay, okay! Stop swatting me!"

* * *

"Really Fair, don't you know the only thing in your life that will ever be fair is you? Certainly nothing to do with me, thankfully." Tisking, he made sure the specimen was well contained before the sedatives wore back off, a little smirk lingering on his face.

* * *

"This isn't a fair world, so if you would stop, then I would be much obliged." The glare that followed the words was chilly, and the blond moved one of his hands to pet the Dark Nation's scruff.

"Nah, it's not a Fair world. I mean, that's what you Shinra folks are for." He flashed him a grin. "If the world belonged to me, I would totally have today be a vacation."

* * *

He sighed and figured out how to get the blond moving, dead or not. "Sorry for this Spike. The least I can do is give you a fair chance, eh?"

He didn't need to breathe, but he still took a deep breath before stepping into the other form, promptly losing himself. For the most part. He wasn't going to be Fair anymore apparently, but he certainly tried.


End file.
